ICE
by 8belles
Summary: What would happen if Immigration (ICE) came to deport Ichabod?


ICE

Mid morning light streamed from high windows in the Annex. Dust motes played in the streams of gold like tiny fairies as Abby and Ichabod poured over Sheriff Corbin's files in stony silence. Both agreed they had been reactionary to the unfolding schemes of Moloch and it was high time they tried to get the jump on him.

Interrupting their concentration, Abbey's radio crackled to life, " Lieutenant Mills?"

Abby jumped slightly at the sound, so deep she was in concentration. Ichabod continued his reading, oblivious. " Yes?" she replied to the handset.

"Someone to see you here in the office." the secretary's voice replied. Abby briefly recalled their energy drink experiment with Ichabod and smiled quickly but it faded just as fast, " They are from ICE." The secretary's voice sounded tight, as if the person in question was standing at her desk, very close.

Abby sat up straight from her hunched over position at the ancient wooden reading desk. Ichabod reacted to her sudden motion, his azure eyes alert for danger. "Tell them I'll be there shortly." Abby responded and put the radio down, her eyes wide with trepidation.

"What is the matter, Ms. Mills?" the concerned voice of Ichabod snapped her out of her spinning thoughts.

"We have trouble. Someone from the Immigration service is here." She told him matter-of-fact. "I heavily suspect it's because someone would like you gone."

"Immigration service? What business would they want with me? I am a citizen! " Ichabod commented dryly, " On of the originals, one could say."

"Well, not exactly." Abby returned.

" Is this going to be one of our abbreviated history lessons again, Ms. Mills?" he replied relaxing his stance because there was no obvious threat that he could see.

"Yes. ICE is responsible for tracking down illegal aliens. The general public opinion of illegal aliens in America has not been positive overall." Abby began.

"Absurd! This country is made of immigrants!" Ichabod said his tone rising in annoyance, a piece of hair escaping his ponytail.

"Of course, but …. There isn't time to get into the debate. Anyway- they are here to check your immigrant status and you don't have a passport!" Abby retorted not wanting to engage the ancient colonialist in modern politics about immigration policy.

"I did at on time." Ichabod replied smoothing back his hair that had become lose.

"Yes, but that looked a lot different from today's version. Long story short, you will be sent back to Britain if we don't prove you are an American citizen." Abby's mind began to spin a thousand miles an hour. She had an idea about who was behind this. Picking up the radio she called the secretary to see if Morales was at work today. He was not. Interesting, she thought and then said she would be there momentarily because she was finishing up some casework.

Abby hopped down from the tall chair she was perched on and marched up to Ichabod. Pointing at him she stated, "You and I have to get married."

Ichabod's jaw dropped and he paled backing up a few steps, "Have you lost your wits, Ms. Mills!"

Abby had to smile at him because of her outrageous suggestion, "No. If we can 'prove' we are a wedded couple, ICE can't deport you. Marriage to a U.S. citizen gives you citizenship."

Ichabod still looked highly uncertain and aghast, "Ms. Mills, we… I … you." He stammered. Abby noticed his eyes were slightly sad, probably remembering Katrina and their marriage over two centuries ago.

Searching the room, Abby commented, "I know, we're the odd couple aren't we? Help me look for something that look like wedding rings!"

Ichabod moved like a robot, stiffly and unsure. Abby was reminded of a boy who was told to fetch his own whipping rod before being beaten by a parent. Stopping for a moment, she walked to him and took his hands in hers, which was an unusual move. She typically didn't touch him, "Ichabod. You are now my partner in work and a friend. I'm trying to help you. Look at this as one of our grand adventures." Her sympathetic warm brown eyes gazed into his sad blue ones and he relaxed slightly.

" I think I found our rings." His expression warmed and he smiled that wicked, playful smile that Abby admired and he looked up at the brass curtain rings.

"A little cheap don't you think?" she teased and pulled on the heavy velvet curtains till one tumbled down in a cloud of dust.

After coughing and brushing each other off, they pulled two brass rings from the curtain rod. Abby in her moment of levity shoved the ring on Ichabod's left hand, "With this ring… I thee-" the words stopped mid sentence. This was becoming a bad joke.

She had noticed in the last several weeks after his resurrection, between the hair-raising, Death defying tasks they had been set to, that he carried the great weight of 250 years of loss. Right now it looked to crush him. "Ichabod, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so … careless." she began but knew her words were inadequate.

His pained blue eyes turned to from her to his hand and then back to Abby, "No, Ms. Mills. Life is not as it should be, but I do not take offense. It is my burden to bear and someday, Katrina and I will be together as it should have been long ago. But I do miss her. Terribly. " He took Abby's hand and slipped the curtain ring on her finger and smiled a soft, aching smile of pain, "Consider this a bond of friendship, instead of matrimony."

Abby felt her eyes become moist and blinked them away. With his simple statement, Ichabod exposed a world of raw feelings in her from her foster and teen years that she had buried under so much rubble that it now threatened to engulf her. The strained voice on the radio broke the spell, " Lieutenant Mills?"

Stepping away from Ichabod, who was touching the curtain ring thoughtfully on his hand, Abby clicked back, "Be right there!"

"A certificate. We need a certificate of marriage." Abby stated quickly, "Come. Ichabod!" He broke out of his mental fog and followed her out of the Annex. She was heading for the Records Department of the Sleepy Hollow Town Hall building via more underground passageways Ichabod had showed her.

"Ms. Mills, wait!" Ichabod called after her, but she needed to be quick or suspicions would be raised even higher.

Creeping up some steps, she peeked around a corner to see if clerks were around. They all were distracted. Dashing behind a computer terminal in a cubicle, she quickly accessed the Sleepy Hollow Records website. A brilliant stroke of luck, Abby noted, the clerk had left himself or herself logged into the computer so she was able to access blank marriage records. Ichabod settled in quietly behind her.

"Ichabod, how old were… I mean _are_ you?" Abby asked kicking herself mentally for being so rude.

" I am aged twenty and eight years." Ichabod replied quietly, "April, 29, 1748, in the year of Our Lord."

"Well, now your birthday is April 29, 1985." Abby replied quickly and filled in her own birthdate. " We were married two months ago, which is shortly after you showed up here." Typing furiously she continued, " You have been in this country, however, for a few months prior to that, got it?"

Ichabod almost rolled his eyes at her, an expression he had been affecting from modern times that actually irritated Abby. She liked his unique antique style much better, " What do you think I am? Some fan fiction writer?", she snapped, " It's not like I'm … Thomas Jefferson writing the Constitution!"

"Ms. Mills, your efforts are valiant. Please continue. I am enjoying this tall tale." he commented wryly again.

Hitting print, she stood up and walked toward the shared printer at the end of the cubicle cells. Ichabod followed her, still slightly awestruck at the modern ease of document production. _How the Revolution would have been helped if we had technology like this, then_, he remarked to himself, arms neatly tucked behind him.

Abby plucked the paper from the laser printer and headed toward her office. No one looked up from their schedules to see Ichabod; they had all gotten used to the tall, strangely dressed man with a ribbon bound ponytail in their precinct. As they approached Abby's desk, she grabbed his hand and held it. Ichabod stiffened, not being used to women being so forward. "Ms. Mills!" he hissed at her.

"Play along, my _Dearest._" Throwing him a romantic look, she hissed back two steps away from the dour looking ICE officer in his dark suit and tie.

"Lieutenant Mills?" The ICE officer inquired.

"Yes, sir. I am Abby Mills." She proffered a hand for the ICE officer to shake. He did while looking Ichabod up and down in his eighteenth century garb. "How can I help you?"

"We are here to investigate the immigration status of a Mr. Ichabod Crane." he replied.

" I see. Well, here he is, my husband." Abby replied but softly, hoping her acting skills had not become rusty after she cleaned up her act as a teen. She saw Ichabod swallow nervously out of the corner of her eye.

"Mr. Crane. I am Robert Fowler, ICE. Do you have your passport with you?", Fowler asked.

"Mr. Fowler pleased to meet you. I do not, unfortunately, have my documentation because it was lost at sea." Ichabod replied smoothly, although it was obvious he was slightly uncomfortable under scrutiny.

"Yes, we went on our honeymoon and he dropped it in the ocean! How silly!" Abby interjected in a tense way. Both men looked at her as she gave a sheepish smile.

"And where did you honeymoon?" Fowler asked casually, crossing his arms.

"Hawaii." Abby said.

Simultaneously Ichabod replied, "Bermuda."

Fowler looked at both of them, quizzically, while Abby and Ichabod exchanged an apprehensive look at their slipup.

"I'm sorry, he still gets his geography mixed up. You know, we are a big country and I'm not sure what they teach them in school in England." Abby apologized and saw Ichabod's color rise, as he grew infuriated with her suggestion he was less educated, "But I _love_ him, despite his small faults." She finished leaning in on his chest and giving him an affectionate squeeze around the waist.

Initially, Ichabod stiffened again with Abby's bold behavior, but then softened to put an arm around her shoulder acting the good, young husband, "Yes, I do sometimes get my two coasts confused. Britain is so small in comparison." his tone conciliatory but he cut her a look sharp as a razor.

The ICE agent surveyed both of them for a long moment and Abby felt like she couldn't breathe, " So you have documentation of your marriage?"

"Yes, sir. Right here." Abby produced the paper to the agent.

Looking at it, his scrutiny was intense, "And you have not filed this with ICE for what reason?"

Abby had an answer, "Sir, if you are not aware, here in Sleepy Hollow we've been very busy. And being newlyweds, it's really slipped our mind." She batted her eyes at Ichabod for effect and he smiled down upon her.

"Is that so. How did you meet?" Fowler asked and Abby noticed that some office staff were taking notice of their conversation. A few cell phones appeared and looked to be busily texting.

Mill's mouth opened then shut but Ichabod stepped in easily, "I am a history professor from Oxford. I was visiting Harvard College.. I mean University, when a mutual friend decided we should take a trip to New Amster—sorry, New York. We continued our journey to Sleepy Hollow where he introduced us. It was love at first sight." He played along.

"And who was this friend?" the agent queried.

"None other than Captain Irving, himself." Ichabod replied looking past Fowler to the tall, athletic Captain, who was discussing a case with another officer across the room.

Fowler turned to see what Ichabod was looking at and spied the Captain, "Excuse me." Unexpectedly, the agent left Abby and Ichabod standing there and walked over to speak to Irving.

"What are you doing!?" Abby growled but her guts were chilled in horror, " He doesn't have a clue what we're up against!"

"Leftenant, I think you underestimate your superior officer." Ichabod returned coolly and watched the men in conversation. After a brief confused look from Irving, the conversation became more measured, careful and thorough by observation. "Do you see? I believe they have come to an understanding."

Robert Fowler and Captain Irving approached the two "newlyweds", who had not moved one inch from their original poses as affectionate spouses. Captain Irving spoke, "I was just telling Mr. Fowler how much fun it was at your reception. Really a great time."

"Thank you, Captain. I recall it was a splendid evening as well." Ichabod agreed and again smiled beneficently at his 'wife'.

"So are the matters settled here?" Abby piped up hoping for a quick get away.

"I think we have reasonable documentation here. Please make sure you file this with ICE as soon as possible so we can adjust your citizenship status." Fowler looked squarely at Ichabod, returned the fake marriage license and gave a firm handshake.

"By all means, sir, we will. I am so excited to become a citizen of such an amazing country." Crane responded warmly but there was flint in his eyes.

"Good day to you all. Congratulations." The ICE agent responded and the three of them wished him well.

Once Fowler was out of ear shot, the Captain rounded on both of them, "What in God's name are you two up to NOW!?"

Abby was prepared for the verbal onslaught, "Sir, I think someone in the department wants Ichabod out of our town… the country even!"

Irving looked both of them up and down, frowning, "Suggestions?"

"If you look around, he's not here today." Abby preferred not to say his name out loud. She knew what kind of gossip mill this place was.

Irving frowned again and Ichabod began to wonder if his scowl was going to etch itself permanently into his face, "I will handle this from now on. Go about your duties."

"Yes sir!" Abby said curtly and then realized that Ichabod and she were still entwined arms around each other's waists. As if burned by hot metal, she separated from him, brushing herself off and feeling like she was a home wrecker.

Ichabod realized the same thing and adjusted his coat and cleared his throat as if nothing had occurred.

" We should get back to work." Abby concluded and began walking back to the Annex.

" I concur." Ichabod responded and followed at a discreet distance.

Later that evening at Corbin's old cabin, Ichabod was sitting at the kitchen table, an empty plate near him that once contained some of Abby's home made lasagna and a fork askew. He was reading the _New York Times_ with great disgust. _Washington would be rolling in his grave, I believe_, Ichabod remarked to himself angrily. Shoving the paper aside, he felt a weight on his left hand. The curtain ring was still there on his ring finger. Looking at it, he smirked and twirled it on his finger. _What an adventure today was!_ He thought about Abby and how fortunate he was to have her on his side as a friend. It gave warmth to his heart but then a shadow of sadness in the form of Katrina quickly wrapped itself around it. _ Soon, Katrina. Soon we will be together again_, he thought and slipped the brass ring off.

Abby was in her pajamas and was folding laundry. Picking up her dirty clothes, she shook out the pockets and was surprised to hear a thump on the floor. Looking down, she saw the brass ring that was her faux wedding band and picked it up. Studying it, she thought back to her foster days and Sheriff Corbin. He teased her good-naturedly that no boy would ever date her knowing they were friends. So far it had been true. No man got very far in her heart and today was so strange, almost like children playing 'house'.

But Ichabod was a good man. Better than any she had ever met and he was still madly in love with his enchanted wife. Abby felt pity for him as she flipped the ring over in her palm. Separated by not only time, but some metaphysical space, must be agonizing. Setting her jaw and grasping the ring tightly in her hand, she vowed to help him save Katrina from whatever Hell she was in. He was her partner and he deserved it. It was the least she could do.


End file.
